


can our words be silent screams?

by rinalivesonmars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, not much to this yet, this will hopefully get better at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinalivesonmars/pseuds/rinalivesonmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It terrified him, shook him to his very core that Louis had this ability to wreck him and ruin him without saying a word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surrendering Nothing

Louis was reckless. This was a known fact. Louis was one to act on thoughts, on guts and let the adrenaline rush and take over- consequences were not a priority. Louis also knew this would land him in trouble. He was well aware that his actions would result in a set of reactions, falling like dominoes and leaving a mess that he’d run from, like he always did.

He just never knew that this mess would one day- overwhelm him.

\--

Harry was toweling his hair, shaking out excess water as the drops reflected on the shiny marble of his bathroom. Tugging on a pair of Calvin Klein briefs with one hand, he made his way to the kitchen, Louis perched on the counter top with a Kafka novel (borrowed from Zayn no doubt), glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose. There were three tea cups on the counter and Yorkshire teabags strewn haphazardly across the glistening counter top and Harry wondered how long Louis had just been sitting there reading, tea long forgotten and he found himself elbow deep in his book. (Harry denied that he found this image somewhat endearing)

“Hello boo”

Louis peered up from his book, feigning obliviousness as he studiously avoided gazing anything south of Harry’s face and with a sunny smile, he wished good-morning and whirled around to prepare two cups of tea, one served with please-stop-being-so-goddamn-attractive and a hint of milk. Louis was not comfortable in identifying himself. He liked who he liked; he fucked whom he wanted to fuck. The problem was that Louis fell. He fell into all his relationships with reckless abandon, plunging himself into a heady passionate affair that left two individuals tangled up in lust and momentary romance. Louis knew, he knew this love didn't last. It’s the love that burns, that glows rather than rages that leave your heart stuttering and your stomach is doing somersaults. It’s the love that flows through your veins, thicker than any sort of blood and purer than water derived from mountainous springs. Eleanor would never give him what he so ardently desired; she was beautiful- all soft curves and gentle kisses. She was tepid though, some sort of wall painting in a museum. Lovely to look at but you’d never pay 1000 pounds for it. Harry was everything he was looking for. Harry was that love that people spend their lifetimes searching for and never find. God, Louis knew, from the minute that Harry’s hands slid under his thighs on The X-Factor, he was gone. He was hit with the force of tsunami, dragged under by unruly curls and sinfully attractive lips. Harry had captured him with a glance, with a syllable and Louis could only pine as he tried to make up, replace; with some pretty doll by his side. It was a poor, weak imitation at best. He had seen more convincing designer knock-off bags in Italy than the gaps that Eleanor was trying to fill.

Harry was well aware that he crawled underneath people’s skin. His shameless of being naked was the tip of the ice-berg. Harry’s ability really relied on his constant knowledge of what to say to everyone. A compliment was flattering- but well-constructed criticism went a long way. Not that Harry was malicious- heavens no. Harry loved easily and accepted without judgement. However, he was also blessed with being able to be loved or be hated based on his personal preference. It was evident that he quite enjoyed being adored rather than detested. The only individual that he had ever tried to box in was Louis. It was a shame that Louis was also immune to any of his attempts. Harry was certain that Louis was getting underneath his skin rather than the other way around. Harry found Louis to be some sort of decadence. Long eyelashes, Siberian husky eyes and an angelic voice that Harry just wanted to wreck. Harry wanted Louis panting beneath him, voice hoarse and husky. More than that though; he wanted Louis to love him. Harry’s thoughts were consumed with the Doncaster lad, invading and consuming Harry till Harry could feel Louis near him, when he was miles away. It terrified him, shook him to his very core that Louis had this ability to wreck him and ruin him without saying a word. Harry was caught in a losing battle, he was falling so hard for this ethereal boy who had seeped into him and Louis- well Louis was too busy lost in a female to realize his best friend’s lustful gazes.

\--

Chinese take-out boxes were upturned on their marked coffee table and Louis and Harry was curled in the one blanket, trying valiantly not to cry as Rose pleaded Jack not to leave her. The lads were unaware of their tangled limbs, arms thrown carelessly over one another, legs entwined as they tried to ignore each other’s proximity. It was painfully amusing to the point of depressing that they were so caught up with the fear of being rejected, they didn't open their eyes to see that they were both- simply waiting.

\--

Louis curled into his mattress that night, refusing to change his shirt; Harry’s scent permeating the fabric. He silently vowed that everything would change. He couldn't do this any longer, he was going to get Harry to open his goddamn eyes and see that Louis was willing to give up everything for him. With a smug smile on his angelic face, he dozed off to thoughts of Harry’s lips on his skin.

Agitated, Harry grabbed Louis’s sweatshirt and stuffed it to his nose, letting the smell invade his senses as his long limbs spread across his king-size bed. Harry’s pearly whites dipped into his lower lip as he fretted over what had occurred this evening. A snag of doubt was circling his mind- the way Louis’s hands had lingered over Harry, the way his toes had curled over Harry’s ankles. Harry was terrified to assume, to confirm anything, in fear that it would all fall apart and Harry would be alone. So alone and with no one but himself to blame. Shaking out his curls, he tugged the blanket over himself, his feet jutting out and dreamt a dreamless sleep.


	2. Glass Smiles

“Baby let me find out your secret, just let me in-“

Harry was muttering a string of profanities that would have made a pirate blush as Louis sang his solo, winking and blowing kisses to a couple of swooning girls in the front row who physically resembled tomatoes that were about to combust as “OhmygodLouisfuckingTomlinsonwinkedatme” was all that was being screamed, almost drowning out the Doncaster lad’s melodic voice. Harry could barely contain himself and nearly missed his cue as Louis edged back from the stage, grinning at Harry, unaware that the boy was ready to faint at Louis’s antics on stage. He bellowed out his chorus, ignoring the stuffiness of his blazer and the race of his pulse as he ignored Louis studiously, fretting over the first stage of his plan. To seduce Louis.

\-- 

On a post-show high, the boys all clinked their glasses together, enjoying the fruits of their labour as they all knocked back a beer, even Liam as they bantered over Zayn’s trip on stage (he vehemently denied this) and Niall’s pants tearing as he jumped too high. Harry was squished next to Louis who was cackling over Niall’s statement “Me dick’s too big mate, that’s the problem, should get me some looser pants, yer reckon?” Harry’s arm was curled around Louis’s shoulder, not uncommon but Harry’s thumb was brushing the dip of Louis’s tanned collarbone, the pad of his thumb stroking the smooth bone, caressing it. Harry was tactile person by nature but knew when he was getting too close. Right now he was edging the fine line that was fraying with Louis. He knew this with each shiver that ran through Louis’s lithe frame. Abruptly, Louis jolted up out of his seat and with a rushed “I need to go pee” he practically sprinted to the bathroom. Harry couldn’t stop the smirk that was tilting his full lips, pushing away his nerves that were bubbling in his stomach.

Louis was gripping the sink with his hands, knuckles turning white as he panted, trying to calm his hormones which were searing under his skin. He nibbled on his lower lip, contemplating whether Harry’s actions were deliberate or subconscious. He must have felt the tremors that were shaking his body every time Harry’s skin brushed his own. With a frustrated groan, he slammed his head against the mirror, his breath fogging up the glass. He refused to let his feelings get in the way, he wasn’t ready for this. Grabbing for his phone, he punched in the digits for his escape tonight.

“Hey El…you free?”

\--

Harry stumbled through the door of their apartment around 2 am, happily buzzed on the drinks that Niall was plying him with. Louis’s abrupt departure had brought him down and though the Irish man didn’t know the exact feelings, he had sensed Harry’s distress. Harry was now teetering on the line of ‘pleasantly drunk’ to ‘shit-faced on the side of the road’ Contemplating on waking up Lou, he was in the process of pulling off his converse when he heard it. Freezing, he waited and then heard it again. “OH, L-LOUIS” Harry visibly flinched, the voice sounded very feminine and annoyingly familiar. Shuffling his way towards the bedrooms, he heard a guttural groan that so distinguishably Lou that Harry knew what was happening. Without the bed creaking and the disturbingly porn-esque moans from Eleanor- Harry knew why Louis had left. Slamming the door to his own room in the hopes that Louis would have heard it, Harry splashed water on his face, trying to calm himself down to no avail. Sinking on to the tile, Harry’s body curled on itself. This was not how he’d planned this- at all.

\--

Louis padded into the kitchen the next morning, pulling the fridge open and taking the carton of milk. He was sated and his muscles were loose and relaxed. He tried to staunch the vague unsureness that was nagging him, trying to think about how good Eleanor had felt underneath him and how much she had enjoyed his ministrations. He wasn’t thinking of how it should have been Harry, Harry dominating him and placing teasing kisses down his jugular, tongue tracing out patterns over his sweaty skin- Swearing to himself, Louis poured out a glass of milk for himself and on reviewing the text from Liam this morning “Haz iz probs hungova, tk care of him” he decided to pour a glass of orange juice for him too.

Harry woke to a pressure sinking on to the bed, Louis gazing fondly at him, his sweatpants low on his hips, a glass of welcoming orange juice in one hand. Harry rubbed at his eyes, yawning and stretching as he winced, something akin to a construction site going on in his head. Groaning, he thankfully accepted the juice, Louis handing him two asprin as well and Harry could have kissed him right then

“You alright mate? Looking a bit worse for wear”

“Niall, the bastard, kept pouring me pints”

“Ah, little Irish lad, gotta love him”

Harry chuckled, swigging back the orange juice and slowly easing himself out bed. “Not right now I don’t” he mumbled, making his way to the door.

“Oh Harry, El’s here…so you might want to find some boxers or something…” Louis trailed off, noticing the flash of- was that jealousy? In his eyes and watching the way Harry froze, swiveled and headed to his bathroom.

“I think I’ll just have a shower for now”

Louis stopped Harry before he could close the door “Hey Hazza, wanna do something today? Go to the movies or something”

“What, you’re not fucking Eleanor all day?” Harry spat bitterly, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Wha-? No, of course not…” Louis questioned incredulously, wondering why Harry was acting so…bitchy all of a sudden.

“No. I’m sorry, sure mate, we can. Just us two yeah?” Harry murmured and closing the door to the bathroom, he went to have a much needed wank over him and Louis sucking each other off in a screening of that new Batman movie whilst wondering when he had gotten so fucked up.


End file.
